To Be Brothers
by WriteForJoy
Summary: Dmitri adopts a street rat, who slowly inches his way into Vladimir's heart. A Vlad/Talon fic written for a friend set in a Mafia!AU.


The man stood above the shivering boy. Eyes sharp glinting like an eagle.

"I have been looking for you, boy."

A cigarette fell to the ground. Light step. Blood shining on dark leather boots.

"Vladimir, da? Come with me."

Small hand reached out. Uncertain. Fear. But received with trust.

No words. Red eyes looked back at the city, then back at the man. His hand was warm.

Vladimir never went back.

* * *

His first magnum. A gift for completing his tests.

Click. Bang. Bull's eye.

"Xорошо."

She had long and soft brown locks of hair. Her skin smelled like roses.

Click. Bang.

"Очень хорошо."

A content smile. Childish happiness. Accomplishment. The betrayed bled out on the floor. White teeth and red blood.

He thought he was the best.

* * *

"Vladimir, come meet your brother."

A boy similar his age. Eyes filled with despair. Broken. Smelled of feces and rot.

Brown eyes filled with familiar emotions. Uncertainty. Fear. Vladimir reached out with his hand.

Dirty lashes pointed downwards. No words. Perhaps pride. Timid. Unease. The gesture not returned.

Red eyes projected silent judgement. Hand retrieved.

Vladimir fled the scene.

He hated how Dmitri looked at the boy.

* * *

One flew east. One flew west. Separated dorms. United by cause.

White hair reached his shoulder. The teen in the mirror was handsome.

Deceptive appearance. Trained assassin.

A knock on the door. Light came through the opening.

"We should go."

Brown eyes. Brown hair just above the chin. The teen in front of him was also handsome.

A frown. Rivalry resurfacing. But assignment above all.

* * *

Together they kill. Together they triumph. One birthday cake for two. Yet different presents.

"Vladimir."

A golden pocket watch.

"Talon."

A new gun.

All of a sudden. Jealousy. Anger. Betrayal. Hurt. Exploded.

He thought he was the best.

But he was not.

* * *

Confrontation. He shoved him in the shoulder. Confusion in those brown eyes.

Footprints in thick snow. Shuffling. Fists. Grunts.

A flash of steel. Drops of blood decorated the white.

Rosy cheek no longer perfect. Yet brown eyes confused still.

Good. Vladimir hated his looks. Hated those eyes. Hated his existence.

A threat, merely to send the message.

A hand smeared the red. Examining. Confused now mesmerized.

"You will never be the best."

White hair blended into the snow. Leaving.

A smile bloomed. Monologue in the winter wonderland.

"I never wanted to."

* * *

A cough. Signs of a withering body. Wrinkles on hand. Eyes still sharp as an eagle.

"All things come to an end, my progeny."

Vladimir paid no mind then. Assignments grew heavier, harder. This world seemed to never run out of people to kill.

Bullets consumed like candies. Bodies fell like trees. Blood ran like rivers.

Brothers, divided. Even when there were no more birthday cakes and presents.

Halcyon days were over.

* * *

The pocket watch said five more minutes. He waited patiently. Smoking.

A black car arrived below. Men came out. Black suits and fedora. One red tie.

An empty warehouse for gathering.

He repeated silently. Failure. Punishment. Success. Expected.

Execution style. He shall lead the shot.

Talon awaited outside the warehouse. Not reading the news.

Rifle in place. Loaded. He dropped the cigarette. Lifted the gun. Lined up the shot.

Red tie talking. Others listening. Clean shot.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Switch the safety. Pull the trigger.

One second too soon. Bullet flew. He fucked up. Whistling through the air. He was too soon. Shattered glasses. He stared wide-eyed.

Red tie didn't fall.

Red tie didn't fall. But Talon was already inside.

He ran like hell.

* * *

Broken glasses. Blood splatter. Bodies. Shell casings. Talon.

Asleep.

Uncertainty. Fear. He shook him.

Brown eyes fluttered open.

"You missed." A smile.

A sigh of relief, followed by a frown.

"You should have gone." Accusation. Shielding for fragile emotions.

"I trust you." Soft sincerity. "Let's go home."

He pulled him up. Arm around shoulder. Staggering but quick. Like brothers.

Like brothers.

* * *

"You know the rules, sons." Stone cold authority.

"Who, was to blame?"

Silence. A million heartbeats. Tension building to critical levels. Impending explosion.

"I am."

…

Hour later.

He swore he could smell the seared flesh as he passed him by. A mark of shame.

"Don't worry." Struggling smile. "I was never the best anyway."

He gulped. Raw emotions. Accepting this moral defeat.

* * *

A year later. Assignments ran smoothly ever since.

They still haven't ran out of people to kill.

Bullets still consumed like candies. Bodies still fell like trees. Blood still ran like rivers.

But brothers were no longer divided.

* * *

New blood. Whelp introduced to the family.

Golden boy. Fresh. Hadn't seen a lot. Clean. Unlike his brother when they first met.

Blue eyes were clear, even innocent. Unlike the brown that had seen the cruelties of this world.

"Meet your new brother, boys."

Nods. But blue gaze fixated on Talon. A hand reached out.

There were no uncertainty. No fear. The gesture returned. Names exchanged.

And, as a spectator, he could only watch. Watch the smiles. Watch the shake. Red eyes projected silent judgement.

He fled the scene.

He hated how Talon looked at that boy.

* * *

Neglected hidden needs manifest at night. Nightmares devouring.

He sat up. Went for a glass of water.

Corridor lit. Speech heard.

He turned the corner to the west wing. He knew. He saw.

Talon holding the hands of that boy.

Talon hugging him.

Spotted, the golden boy left in a hurry. He waited. Stared.

His brother smiled.

"Good night, Vladimir."

Three steps. Wrist grabbed. Brown eyes forced to stare upon the red.

Confusion again. Mesmerized again.

A harsh kiss. An assault. Lips locked onto lips. Wetness spread in mouth.

A bite. As he drew blood on his brother again.

A threat, merely to send the message.

His hand wandered above his lips. Mesmerized still by the warmth. The taste of metal.

"You are mine."

White hair blended into the darkness. Leaving.

A smiled bloomed. Monologue in the dreamy déjà vu.

"I had always been."

* * *

"All things come to an end, my son."

Panic. Helplessness. Frail emotions he could do without.

Black trousers on red carpet, folds at the knee. Pale hand in the old one's. Shivering as if first meeting.

"Take care of your brothers."

Flatline. Responsibility passed on. Will spoken.

He wore the mantle now. He had a family.

Yet he had never felt so alone and lost.

* * *

It was easy to be taken advantage of.

They knew the old man passed away. They had been lurking. Waiting.

Time had come for them to strike.

Outnumbered. Overwhelmed. Captured. Examined.

One unbound. Brought to be heard by their leader.

Messy brown hair shaded the fury on his face. A slash. Fabric ripped. The hair on his back stood. The wound seemed to burn once more.

"You have been disgraced. A true warrior deserve better."

A cold smirk. Pathetic attempt at conversion. Followed by test of loyalty.

Clink. Shiny metal on table. Newest model. Even better than the one Dmitri gave him.

"Kill them." Ordered to betray, and he was sent back.

* * *

Moist air. Dungeon. Rats. Drops of water. Home.

At least long ago, he would have called this home.

Brothers. One east, one west. Hooded. But he knew.

Unguarded.

Click.

The choice had been made a long time ago.

Steadied breathing. Fogged eyes.

He cared. He loved. He was sorry.

So sorry.

But he had to choose for his heart.

Bang.

…

Click.

Bang.

* * *

They didn't trust him. Two came down. The air was moist. Smelled of fresh blood.

A body on the ground. Hooded. Dead. Golden hair spread on the floor.

He gestured them over. Struggling smile. Leg bleeding.

A finger pointed the way. Hurried footsteps followed. Splashing water. Disappearing in the tunnels.

Lashes pointed downwards. A golden pocket watch. He smiled. He cried.

The things he would do for love.

* * *

They will never catch him.

When his hood was pulled off, he realized what Talon had done.

 _I was never the best anyway._

A weight in his hand. 4 bullets. But he would not need them.

The end of the tunnel came light from above. He escaped.

He ran like hell.

* * *

Plans laid out on the table. Boxes of money. A gun. Fedora.

 _Take care of your brothers._

He carried the mantle. He was wrath reincarnation.

This time there will be no mistakes.

They took something of his. He won't stop till he has it back.  
…

 _Come with me._

Leg wound.

 _Go._

Unchained pocket watch. Wrapped up in Talon's hand.

 _I will come back for you._

 _Go. Before they come.  
_ …

No more thoughts. Action.

"I'm coming, brother." A smile. Monologue for sweet reunion.

"We're going home together."


End file.
